


Sock Monkey

by Cattraine



Series: Sock Monkey [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Caretaking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-14
Updated: 2011-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-22 15:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattraine/pseuds/Cattraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s late; he’s running late when the call comes in. One minute he’s sitting at a traffic light on a perfect day on his way to work, bemoaning his lack of coffee and the next he’s screeching the Camaro’s tires towards the accident, heart pounding, keeping perfect time with the chant in his head. <i>No, no, no.</i> It can’t be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sock Monkey

**Author's Note:**

> I know! I am going to hell because I killed Gracie, and I love Gracie! Please don’t stone me. I may do timestamps later for this ‘verse, it kind of won’t let go of me. This story is dedicated to Sarah, who provided (addicted) me with episodes and Joe, who is the best enabler and beta ever.

He’s late; he’s running late when the call comes in. One minute he’s sitting at a traffic light on a perfect day on his way to work, bemoaning his lack of coffee and the next he’s screeching the Camaro’s tires towards the accident, heart pounding, keeping perfect time with the chant in his head.  _No, no, no._  It can’t be.  
   
He can see the black billowing smoke from a block away and hear the sirens screaming, and he pulls up as close as he can behind the rescue vehicles, throws open his door and charges towards the heart of the inferno. The fire that now engulfs the expensive town car that was t-boned by a fuel delivery truck the car that had been carrying Grace to school. All he can see is flame and smoke and he can smell gasoline and hear the firemen yelling something and someone -- _is that him?_ —- screaming Grace’s name.  
   
The next minute he’s choking on oily smoke, eyes tearing and he’s clawing at hot metal and he can feel his skin sizzling, then strong arms wrap around his waist and he’s being bodily lifted and hauled away from the car holding his life. He howls and kicks and punches but Steve, yeah its Super SEAL himself, just holds on tight and wraps his lanky body around Danny and doesn’t let go even when the gasoline catches and the explosion lifts them both up just to slam them back down on the pavement.  
   
He still manages to wriggle free and crawls, trying to get back into the fire _–my baby, my baby girl is there, let me go, you bastard_ —and it takes three of them to dog pile him and hold him down long enough for the paramedic to slip a needle in his arm, Steve and Chin and some unknown fireman, and he will never, ever forgive them for keeping him from her.  
   
Never.  
   
*****************************  
   
He wakes in a hospital bed, his head in a fog. Bemused he stares at his bandaged hands. Why is he tied down? Bewildered, he turns a questioning gaze on a red-eyed and weeping Kono, seated in a plastic chair by the bed. Then memory hits him like a freight train and he mutely shakes his head in denial – _no,no,no_ — and then he’s screaming it at her and she’s crying harder, and he’s bucking in the bed trying to rip free. He has to find her, she’ll be afraid without him.  
   
Steve runs into the room, all wild eyes and stubble-faced, tossing a paper cup of coffee at the trash. There are words coming out of his mouth and he tries to hold Danny, to hug him, comfort him.  
   
Danny doesn’t stop screaming. He doesn’t stop fighting until the doctor comes with another damned needle, and the last thing he sees before the drug drags him under is Steve crying, because Steve loved Gracie too.  
   
********************************  
   
The next thing he clearly remembers is that they’re in church. Its tiny and quiet, filled with colored light, all whitewashed stone and carved golden wood and beautiful stained glass windows with a picture of Jesus holding a lamb, and more improbably, a design of pineapples. The young priest is standing at the pulpit speaking, his voice gentle and melodic. Danny can hear people in the pews weeping softly behind him. In the pew across the aisle a black clad Rachel is sobbing in Stan’s arms, a lace hanky clutched to her face. Danny stares at the small white casket buried in fragrant flowers. This is a very strange dream.  
   
Frowning, he looks down at himself, then around. His hands and arms are wrapped in heavy white bandages and he’s wearing his dress uniform. He’s sandwiched snugly in between Steve and Chin. Kono is seated at the end of the pew and she is wearing a pretty floral dress with a tiny, veiled hat, of all things. He wants to tease her about it, but she is crying again, so he turns to Steve for an explanation. Steve, who is stone faced and dressed in his Navy whites, sitting ramrod straight beside him, one big hand resting gently on Danny’s bandaged wrist. He looks sad, eyes red rimmed, so Danny turns instead to Chin for an explanation, but Chin’s eyes are closed and his hands folded in his lap, lips moving silently and Danny doesn’t want to disturb a praying man, so he stays silent.  
   
Time kind of folds into itself and next they are standing under the serene blue sky in a beautiful green field, its rows of stones and plaques in tidy ranks and the dream gets stranger. The priest is speaking again and Rachel is silent now, and leaning heavily against a grim-faced Stan. There is a deep hole in the ground and the little casket, still bright with flowers is in it. Danny frowns, what the hell is happening? He looks around, beginning to panic, heart pounding in his chest. He curls his blistered palms into painful fists.  
   
He’s sandwiched between Steve and Chin again, Steve’s hand resting gently on his back. A sick, horrible feeling begins to rise inside him, and memory sinks sharp teeth into his skull. His eyes dart to the small,  _child_ -sized coffin and he begins to shake his head silently in denial. What are they doing putting her in the ground? Don’t they know she’s afraid of the dark? She always has to have her Disney night-light when she stays over, and Danny  _always_  checks under the bed for monsters.  
   
He is starting to shake in earnest now, and Steve wraps long arms around him, and Chin holds him on the other side. It doesn’t do any good; when they start to cover her, they may as well cover him as well, and someone is crying again, harsh animal wails that tear his chest. Steve holds him even closer, rocking him in his arms almost, one hand holding Danny’s head hard against his shoulder, and Danny feels his mouth warm against his temple and his voice a deep, soothing murmur in his ear, but in the end it all fades away again.  
   
********************************  
   
He comes back to himself finally. He’s in his tiny apartment, stretched out on his back on the fold out bed, a photo frame tucked in one arm and a long, skinny brown monkey with Velcro hands and feet clutched under the other. Grace sleeps, slept with it when she stayed over. He studies the ceiling dispassionately for a minute, listening to the sound of Steve’s voice. He’s pacing on the lanai outside, cell phone held to one ear. Some time must have passed because Danny is wearing a t-shirt and sweats now, and Steve has on his usual tee and cargo pants.  
   
Silently, he sits and studies the sweet smiling face in the picture. He nods to himself, decision made. It’s the most logical decision he’s ever made, and the easiest. Danny is a good father. He can’t leave his little girl alone in the dark. He presses a gentle kiss to the photo, then places it carefully on the side table. Steve is still on the phone, back turned, apparently arguing with someone. Danny slips from the bed.  
   
Steve, the bastard, has hidden his guns. Both his service revolver and his backup pieces are gone. Danny knows he doesn’t have much time; he has to do this while Steve is distracted. He shuffles into the bathroom; stuffed monkey still clutched under his arm and locks the door. It’s a heavy wooden door with a sturdy lock. It should hold long enough. Steve is good, but he didn’t check Danny’s shaving kit.  
   
He tugs open the leather case and pulls out his grandpa’s straight razor. The Williams men have always had heavy beards. Cheap disposable razors and electric shavers can’t do the job. Danny has had scruff since he was fifteen. If he leaves it for more than a day it becomes an impenetrable thicket. He flicks the blade open and goes to work. The gauze on his burned wrists slows him down, but he finally slices it off.  
   
He studies the blistered, red skin of his forearms for a moment then begins. It doesn’t hurt. Danny doesn’t feel anything anymore. Quick deep slices down the inner arms from wrists almost to elbows are the way to go. He sits back against the wall, presses his palms against the floor and waits, watching his blood flow and pool on the white tile. It won’t take long. The stuffed monkey watches silently from the sink. Danny smiles at it. He feels good for the first time in days.  
   
 _I’m coming, Monkey. Danno’s coming. Don’t be afraid._  
   
“Danny?”  
   
Steve’s worried voice is muffled through the door. The doorknob rattles.  
   
Danny leans back and closes his eyes, and lets go. The last thing he remembers is the sound of the door splintering in the frame as Steve furiously kicks it in.  
   
*******************************  
   
When Danny wakes up again, this time in the psychiatric ward, and remembers, he is  _furious_. How dare that son-of-a-bitch interfere? He is so angry that he’s mute for the first time in his life. He stays silent through the doctor’s gentle questioning, turns his head away and refuses to engage with anyone, the hospital psychiatrist, the nurses and especially Steve when he visits. Danny ignores his soft pleading and wounded eyes, and focuses instead on that silly monkey that Kono has brought and left with him. Steve finally goes away after a hushed discussion with the doctor.  
   
After that, it becomes easier to just not talk. He really doesn’t have anything to say. Despite what some might think, Danny is a very patient man. It’s part of what makes him a good father. He can wait for his chance. He is transferred after a few weeks to another facility. Its nice for a nuthouse, very private and no doubt expensive, set on an old pineapple plantation. Danny wonders who is footing the bill.  
   
Danny really hates pineapples now.  
   
Danny silently complies with his doctors, takes his meds without a fight, eats the bland food, causes no trouble, settles into the routine and waits for his chance to shuffle off this mortal coil. It’s taking longer than he thought it would. The staff is gentle, very competent and watches him like a hawk. He is sure that Steve has something to do with the latter. The bastard still visits like clockwork and despite Danny’s quiet determination to ignore his very existence, he keeps patiently coming back every visitor’s day. Danny ignores him and the little gifts he brings; malasadas, books, magazines, peppermint patties.  
   
Danny sees Grace all the time. He catches sight of the flutter of her pink skirt out of the corner of his eye, hears the sound of her chant and sandaled feet on the pavement as she plays hopscotch on the lanai, feels her small hand in his when he takes his daily constitutional around the grounds, guarded by his own personal watchdog, another huge Kalakaua cousin named Mao. (Mao is huge and soft-spoken and Danny kind of feels like he is being watched over by Gentle Ben.) He dreams about her every night. She’s waiting for him, he knows.  
   
 _It won’t be much longer, Monkey._  
   
Danny is the model patient except for the fact that he refuses to speak or communicate. The nurses whisper about the poor, sad young policeman who lost his daughter so tragically, the orderlies are respectful and gentle, his PT cheerful and always upbeat, even as she works his burned hands, massages ointment into his scarred arms and forces him to stretch the tendons in his fingers to keep them mobile. The doctors fuss with his meds and most of the time Danny spends the days in a medicated daze, and the nights drugged to the gills.  
   
Mao carries on a melodic, one-sided conversation, talking about anything and everything under the sun his love of the island that is his home, his pretty wife, his mama and her home cooking, music, hula, sports, etc. Everything that makes up  _ohana_. Danny thinks that once they might have been friends if he still cared about such things. He takes his pills and shuffles obediently around with Mao, stuffed monkey always tucked under his arm, a scruffy, pale haole shadow with tangled blond hair.  
   
Rachel visits him once, very composed and British with the stiff upper lip, which quickly disintegrates under his unyielding silence and soon she is yelling in his face like old times.  
   
“Damn it, Daniel! She was my daughter, too! Don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself.”  
   
Danny cocks his head and regards her coldly, and feels a mean, unforgiving smile twist his face.  
   
 _If she had been with me instead of in your fancy chauffeured Lincoln she would still be here with us now. You always cared more about status and money than you did us._  
   
Rachel has always been brilliant and she easily reads the unfair accusation in his eyes and pales, one hand fluttering to her mouth as her eyes fill. Standing, she stumbles away down the pretty flower-lined path. Mao hovers nearby, like a huge distressed bumblebee. She won’t be back and Danny refuses to care. She is nothing to him now. Danny thinks he catches a glimpse of Steve waiting for her down on the lanai.  
   
Danny buries his face in the monkey’s plush fur and refuses to feel. He listens for Grace instead.  
   
 _I love you Danno.  
   
Danno loves you more._  
   
 ********************************  
   
It takes Danny a while to work through the narcotic fog and figure out his drug regime. Dr. Wonder Bra, his over made-up, redheaded nemesis is a firm believer in the wonders of sedatives. Xanax tops the cocktail list closely followed by Seconal. After all, a compliant patient is a happy patient, which results in pleased families who gratefully fund her little clinic. (Danny once overheard her talking on the phone to Steve, who was apparently questioning the need for so many narcotics in his schedule.) He had felt a faint surge of amusement at the time.  
   
As attentive as Mao is, it doesn’t take long before Danny is able to start hoarding the powerful Seconal and painkillers the good doctor has him on. After all, Danny is a  _good_  patient. He palms them at bedtime after Mao hands them to him, pretends to swallow them down with the tiny paper cup of water, then slips them into the tiny slit in the lining of the Velcro monkey’s tail after Mao tucks him in and turns out the light. Danny is pretty sure there is no camera in the airy, pleasant room they have him locked in, but he’s careful anyway.  
   
Danny kind of wishes that the small, cozy hospital library held a copy of the latest prescription drug handbook because he can’t remember exactly how many pills he is going to need to get the job done and he doesn’t want to mess up this time. He is pretty confident that he can make it happen, after all there is no hyper alert Navy SEAL hovering over him here. His plan is to swallow his hoard of painkillers and sedatives right after lights out and simply drift away with Grace.  
   
He frowns down at the copy of National Geographic he is clumsily paging through, and briefly considers using the single library computer to check dosages on the internet, then vetoes the idea. He wouldn’t put it past Chin and Kono to be monitoring the damned thing from headquarters. They visit too, not as often as Steve, but regularly. They usually come together, and take turns talking to Danny, one stepping in when the other falters. Kono always brings him beautiful, fragrant flowers. He kind of wishes he could say goodbye to them and thank them for their kindness. Maybe he will leave them a note.  
   
He yawns, frowns, and rubs sleepily at his eyes. Mao will be along any time now to put him down for his afternoon nap. If Danny gave a damn, he would be more perturbed by the sheer amount of sedatives he ingests on a daily basis. He has never liked taking any type of drug. Hated the way they made him feel sluggish and slow, he’s always had weird reactions to prescription drugs and God knows he saw enough working vice to put him off forever. He tamps down hard on the memories of his job. He had been a good cop at least. Anyway, he has a back-up plan if he screws up the pill dosage.  
   
He can see the ocean from the hospital lanai.  
   
****************************  
   
Things were going good with his plan; things were right on schedule, when the thing with the girl messes him up. Her name is Leilani; she’s a patient as well, a slender, shy pretty teen, in for an overdose of her mother’s valium after her first boyfriend dumped her. (Danny knows all this because one of the things he has to suffer through is weekly group therapy.) Patients talk a lot in Group.  
   
Well, everyone talks except for Danny. He just tries to stay awake. Leilani talks haltingly about her lack of self-esteem, Sherman the hypochondriac lists his many illnesses, and Josie babbles about her uncontrollable need to flash every male she meets. Rita mostly just stares dully and pulls listlessly at her hair, and Jon recites really horrible, bawdy limericks.  
   
Danny is first of all a good detective, even doped to the eyebrows and seeing flocks of pretty blue butterflies. He notices things that most people overlook. Like the way that Tony Fong, one of the new orderlies eyes Leilani. Unlike Mao and the other orderlies whose eyes remain with careful courtesy above the neck, Tony stares at her budding breasts, her coltish legs, her ass. He’s careful not to do it when any of his colleagues are around, and he just smirks when Danny glares at him to warn him off.  
   
Danny makes it a point to stay close to Leilani when they’re in the rec room or the cafeteria to keep an eye on her. She has a good attendant though, a big Samoan named Pete, so everything is cool and Fong keeps his distance. It’s when Pete is getting ready to go on vacation that things come to a head.  
   
Danny is sitting at a table in the rec room pushing puzzle pieces around and glaring at a thousand blue bits of sky that all look the same (and God, he hated these things as a kid) when he overhears two of the nurses talking about Pete’s vacation and the fact that Fong actually volunteered to cover a couple of his shifts, starting the day after tomorrow.  
   
Danny can feel his heart rate increase and the adrenaline start to rise despite his meds (the doc had changed them again recently and things were less foggy now). He has to do something. This Fong guy has sexual predator written all over him. His first thought is to tell Mao—-but Mao is already off for a long weekend, attending yet another cousin’s wedding on Kauai. He hisses angrily and thumps the table with his palm, startling Leilani who looks up from her magazine, and Sherman, who was napping in the sun. He stares helplessly at the nearest nurse, who raises a brow. Frustrated, he opens his mouth and  _nothing_ comes out. It’s been months since Danny spoke aloud.  
   
Goddamnit. Just when he needs his fucking voice, it’s gone.  
   
He spends a frustrated ten minutes pacing back and forth along the lanai, hands flailing in angry circles. He tried to tell the nurse, even his damned doctor, but they just beamed at him and told him everything would be fine, to just relax, it would all come back eventually. He even scribbled a note, but that just caused furtive exchanged glances and raised brows and Dr. Wonder Bra has bustled off to fetch something to dose him with ‘to calm him down’. Great, now she thought he was delusional as well as suicidal.  
   
At this rate he will be spending the next twelve hours unconscious and he has to fucking do something right now before she gets back and a couple of the burly attendants give her a hand dosing Danny. He growls under his breath, claps his hands together decisively, and then bolts from the lanai heading for the reception area. He jogs across the grounds ignoring the twinge in his bad knee. Its been a long time since he moved this fast.  
   
Danny isn’t considered dangerous to anyone but himself, so he isn’t in the locked down secure section of the hospital. He hovers near the open desk reception area for a few minutes before he gets a break, Dr. Wonder Bra’s secretary leaves her small office carrying her lunch, and Danny ignores a passing nurse who tries to redirect him and darts inside, slamming and locking the door behind him. He pushes a chair under the knob for good measure and scrambles for the phone.  
   
He only knows one person who can help him now.  
   
He dials Steve’s cell number with shaking hands. It rings four times before Steve answers.  
   
“Hello?”  
   
Danny opens his mouth, wincing at the inarticulate croak that comes out. He exchanges anxious glances with Grace who is spinning around and around in the secretary’s office chair. He tries again but only manages a frustrated huff.  
   
“Who is this?” Steve is starting to sound pissed.  
   
Danny closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, scrubs angrily at his face and tries one last time.  
   
“St..St..Steve” he stutters out in a hoarse croak. That’s it, he’s got nothing else.  
   
 _“Danny?”_  
   
Danny slides down the wall to sit on the carpet, phone and monkey clutched close, breathing hard. He can hear people in the hallway trying to talk him out, or into opening the door. Someone is rattling the doorknob. It won’t be long before someone finds and uses a key. Then he’ll be held down and jabbed with a needle and God knows when he’ll wake up again.  
   
“I’m coming, Danno. I’m coming. Hang on partner, I’ll be there soon.”  
   
*******************************  
   
Someone eventually gets their head out of their ass and fetches the master key, and Pete pushes the door open easily and steps inside. Danny pushes himself back farther in the corner, trying to make himself smaller. Even scared and shaking a little, he keeps an iron grip on the stuffed monkey, he can’t lose it yet. Grace is pressed close to his side, glaring at Pete and the nurses behind him.  
   
Pete squats slowly down in front of him, his kind, round face solemn, and eyes the phone Danny is still holding.  
   
“Hey, buddy,” he says gently, “you had to call home?”  
   
Danny stares back helplessly at his compassionate face, mute again. He can see the doctor over Pete’s shoulder, syringe in hand. He doesn’t dare fight when Pete carefully hoists him to his feet and maneuvers him towards the gurney waiting in the hallway. He chokes back his frustration as Pete lifts him onto it and the doctor steps forward with pursed lips to slide the needle in his arm. He glares angrily at her oblivious face and really wishes he didn’t have a thing against punching stupid women.  
   
He fights the sedative, biting his lip and digging his nails into his tender palms, blinking back angry tears at the ceiling as they wheel him back towards his room. They’re crossing the courtyard and the fluffy white clouds overhead are all starting to bleed together when the blue truck roars up the drive, siren wailing and lights flashing. It barely fishtails to a halt before Steve is vaulting out, leaving the door open and running towards them. He steps neatly around the doctor who is walking to meet him, and doesn’t stop until he has his hands on Danny.  
   
Steve bends over the gurney, one hand cupping his rough face, the other catching his angrily flailing wrist, gently prying his fist apart and tangling their fingers together.  
   
“I’m here Danno, I’m here,” he croons gently, bright hungry eyes locked on Danny’s.  
   
Danny is fading fast now, the tide of the sedative pulling him under, and so far from vocalization now it isn’t even funny, but he rallies enough to let go of the pill monkey and reach up and grab Steve’s shirt. His eyes blaze into his partner’s willing him to understand when he cuts his gaze sharply to where Fong is lurking near the door, then back to Steve. And Steve, God love him, picks up instantly on what Danny needs, eyes widening in understanding and tilts his head and focuses that cool lazer gaze on the man, who instantly, guiltily drops his eyes.  
   
The tide covers Danny and he slides into sleep. The last thing he is aware of is a hand gently smoothing his hair back from his brow. Steve doesn’t let go of his hand.  
   
********************************  
   
Danny wakes up the next day, blinking blearily in the bright morning sunlight spilling across his bed and the first thing he sees is Steve sleeping in the chair next to it. His tanned arms are crossed across his chest and his desert boots are propped up on the end of Danny’s bed. His chin is resting on his chest and he looks tired, dark smudges beneath his eyes. He’s going to have a hell of a crick in his neck.  
   
Danny lies quietly and just watches him sleep. Steve had his back yesterday, has always had his back. Something inside his chest threatens to break wide open and he blinks hard and gropes for Grace’s monkey, his talisman against pain. It’s tucked under his right arm and he clutches it hard, hand sliding under the covers to check the tail for his stash. It’s still there and he breathes out a sigh of relief. Nothing has changed, he tells himself. He still has his plan.  
   
Steve grunts and snorts and wakes himself up. His eyes instantly lock on Danny’s even as his feet thump to the floor. Steve smiles at him tentatively, reaches cautiously for his hand, smiling wider, goofier, when Danny doesn’t pull back.  
   
“Hey, Danno. I had Chin run a check on that little bastard. He’s out of here, had three priors for sexual assault.”  
   
He squeezed Danny’s hand gently, and gave it a little shake.  
   
“Good work, partner.”  
   
Danny stares at him and swallows hard. That something inside him is threatening to burst out of his chest like a scene from a sci-fi movie. He can’t seem to stop his fingers from curling around Steve’s—just holding on. He blinks hard and looks away, only to see Grace twirling in the block of sunlight on the floor beaming happily at him, at them, the light haloing her golden brown hair.  
   
She looks like an angel.  
   
He chokes, eyes filling with tears and suddenly it all spills out and he’s crying hard and messily. Steve is on the bed instantly, wrapping him in strong arms and holding him close, and all he can do is hang on, bury his hot, wet face in Steve’s warm shoulder and just hang on, fingers wrapped tight in the back of Steve’s shirt.  
   
**************************  
   
After his big emotional breakdown, Danny has a harder time retreating into himself. He blames the new meds and Steve. He has a brand new doctor now, courtesy of Mr. Micromanager McGarrett and the kindly man is damned stingy with meds. By Danny’s rough estimate he needs at least fifteen more pills to do the job right and he’s just not getting them. Also, the ones he is getting are a lot less potent. Danny blames this for his own crankiness. He is simply not allowed to drift around in a somnambulistic haze anymore and withdrawal from combinations of heavy-duty drugs like Xanax and Seconal sucks.  
   
Also, Steve won’t leave him the hell alone. He is there at every damned opportunity and sometimes he drags Kono and Chin along. He simply won’t be ignored anymore. He forces himself into Danny’s personal space and just won’t leave. He brings magazines and books and DVDs and take-out and reads aloud to Danny and insists they have a movie afternoon. He has the worst cinematic taste Danny has ever seen in his life and if he is forced to watch one more giant octopus movie Danny won’t be responsible for his actions.  
   
Danny is still not talking, but that barely seems to phase Steve at all. Steve can apparently talk for both of them. Once or twice a week Danny finds himself being forcibly cleaned up (with either Mao or Steve supervising his shave), dressed and dragged off the hospital grounds despite his withdrawal anxiety and shakiness, on what Steve insists on calling ‘educational field trips, Danno,’.  
   
So far he’s been to the beach several times, forced to snorkel or drown, visited the Arizona, the International Market Place, the Bishop Museum and even Queen Emma’s summer palace. Danny drew the line at the Dole Plantation Pineapple Maze and the angry, sputtering, nonverbal hissy fit he threw (complete with much flailing and many rude gestures) had just made Steve grin like a loon. Steve, Danny decides, is a big lunkhead.  
   
Things shift again the day Steve decides to bring Danny home to his house for a barbecue and invites Kono and Chin. It’s been over a year and a half since Danny has been in Steve’s house and as he explores (and checks the freezer for peppermint patties) he’s surprised by some of the changes. Steve has repainted some of the rooms in light, airy colors and a lot of the clunky old furniture is gone. There is a huge couch and flat screen TV in the living room now. There’s also a big hammock in the back yard that Danny fully intends to investigate more closely later, and Steve’s old room has been converted into a guest room-- a guest room full of Danny’s stuff.  
   
Danny backs out fast when he sees that, feeling more than a little shaky. The walls have been repainted in Danny’s favorite shade of blue, there is a soft new bed, and the closet and chest of drawers hold all his clothes and tie rack, the bathroom his favorite toiletries. The boxes from Danny’s old apartment (the lease long since lapsed) are stacked neatly in the garage.  
   
Troubled and more than a bit agitated (which he really can’t blame on withdrawal), he wanders out back to the yard where Steve and Chin are arguing good naturedly over how to properly grill fish and Kono is swinging in the hammock laughing at them. Danny’s having a hard time dealing with the fact that sometime during the long months Danny was in the hospital, Steve has simply moved him into his house. More worrisome though, is that he hasn’t seen or heard Grace in days.  
   
He hovers nervously on the lanai, unconsciously flexing his hands, stomach queasy and eyes downcast. He wishes he had remembered to bring the pill monkey with him, he’s been tempted more than once lately to break into his stash of sedatives. He really doesn’t want to believe that Grace has left without him.  
   
He’s so caught up in his anxiety loop that when Steve wraps a big hand around the nape of his neck, he nearly jumps out of his skin. Steve just smiles down into his wide eyes and steers him over to a place at the table, then plops a plate of delicious smelling food in front of him. His stomach surprises him by rumbling loudly in anticipation. He can’t remember the last time he really enjoyed the taste of food.  
   
Steve and the others join him, passing plates and condiments. Steve hands him the Tabasco sauce before he can reach for it and they all dive into a surprisingly tasty dinner of fish tacos and salad. He eats hungrily and is rewarded with a cold Longboard to enjoy despite his meds, and by the time Steve drives him back to the hospital he is feeling sleepy and mellow. Part of him finds it hilarious that Steve drapes an arm across his shoulders and insists on walking him inside to his room, where he is carefully placed in Mao’s capable hands.  
   
Later, lying in bed and nearly asleep he fingers and counts the pills in his stash. He almost has enough, he thinks, but he falls asleep before he can decide on how many more he needs. Just as he is drifting off, he feels Grace’s slight weight settle on the bed as she snuggles against him, her silky, baby fine hair brushing his cheek.  
   
 _I like Steve._  
   
“I like Steve too, Monkey,” he mumbles back.  
   
*******************************  
   
Steve continues to kidnap Danny regularly throughout the perfect Hawaiian summer. They hike, attend ballgames, they explore the islands like tourists (and Steve seems to take fiendish delight in buying tacky souvenirs for Danny—the top of the dresser in Danny’s hospital room now holds a garish stuffed shark, a hula girl doll and a goggle-eyed carved coconut, among other odd things), they peer into a volcano, and sample shave ice at nearly every stand in Hawaii. Steve even insists on giving a doubtful Danny surfing lessons (on tiny bunny waves) and enlists Kono to help him. Somewhere around mid August it dawns on Danny that they are in fact kind of platonically dating.  
   
The expected freak out just doesn’t come and Danny wonders if maybe it’s the drugs or that he’s just gotten used to Steve’s particular brand of crazy. He’s not sure why he has had zero success in ignoring the man. He doesn’t have long to dwell on this before Steve starts checking him out of the hospital for overnight and weekend stays that quickly become a regular thing. Usually this involves dinner out, or take-out and a stack of rented movies.  
   
Sometimes Chin and Kono join them, but usually its just him and Steve and more than once Danny dozes off during a spectacularly crappy movie only to wake up a couple of hours later drooling on Steve’s shoulder. Sometimes Steve dozes off too and they end up napping together, Danny tucked like the world’s largest teddy bear under Steve’s chin on the big couch. Eventually they rouse, and Steve will steer him upstairs to collapse face first onto the bed in the guest room. He still refuses to think of it as his room.  
   
In September, Steve checks him out of the clinic and drags him off to the open air International Market, supposedly in search of a birthday gift for Mary. Danny suspects its actually because Steve just wants to explore the crafts booths in search of more tacky souvenirs—-which explains the life-sized neon pink rubber octopus that recently mysteriously appeared in Danny’s collection—-and the food booths to eat exotic and dubious food stuffs.  
   
They wander around most of the morning, Danny trailing silently at Steve’s heels, feeling raw and a little exposed under the bright sun, in tee shirt, cargo shorts and sneakers. His uncut, overlong hair is tied back with a piece of string. He rubs the fading scars on his arms self-consciously and wishes that he had thought of more sun block. He’s feeling a little cranky--his meds have been cut again and he’s been wondering if maybe it would be worth the risk to just break into the pharmacy at the hospital and steal the Seconal he needs. It wouldn’t be hard and it wouldn’t take long.  
   
Steve stops at a lei-garlanded shave ice stand to chat with a plump smiling auntie—-Steve apparently knows everybody on the island—-and Danny nods politely at her when he introduces them, then waits patiently, absently people watching as he does. It’s a cop habit always to be aware of your surroundings and Danny does it automatically. It had been a point of pride when he was a beat cop in Jersey to know it and its people like the back of his hand.  
   
He catches sight of the purse-snatcher out of the corner of his eye. The jittery, skinny kid just yanks the huge pocketbook off the tiny Asian woman’s arm, roughly shoulders her to one side and bolts amid outraged shrieks. Unfortunately he chooses to run right past them. Danny is moving before he knows it, stepping up and automatically clothes lining the little prick and relieving him of the purse in one efficient movement, while Steve gleefully pounces and has him rolled over on his face and cuffed before he barely has time to hit the ground.  
   
A uniformed cop trots over and Steve hands him over with an order to book him. The dazed perp is led off and Danny suddenly finds himself engulfed in a series of soft jasmine and ginger scented hugs as the little Chinese woman whose purse he rescued and her friends surround him, cooing admiringly and patting his cheeks. He pats her frail back awkwardly, glaring at a smirking Steve over her shoulder.  
   
 _Help me, you idiot._  
   
Steve is not helpful, he just beams and gives Danny a goofy little wave, allowing Danny to carefully untangle himself from his gaggle of elderly admirers. Somehow he ends up draped with leis and he sulks all the way back to the truck. However, he eventually deigns to graciously accept Steve’s apology cone of cherry shave ice, but he feels strangely warm inside and flushes when Steve beams happily at him all the way back to the hospital. The feeling lingers for the rest of the evening and he finds himself blushing hotly every time he thinks of Steve’s proud smile, and its only later that he remembers that he didn’t have an anxiety attack all day. He discovers he is still draped in flowers only when Leilani shyly admires them.  
   
It comes as something of a shock to him next week to realize that he is actually looking forward to being sprung from the hospital for Bad Movie Night. He recognizes this when he finds himself gleefully borrowing a DVD from Sherman that features not only a giant octopus, but a megashark as well, and a gaggle of bikinied damsels that he surmises will end up shark and tentacle bait ten minutes into the movie.  
   
Steve will love it and probably demand his own copy.  
   
What really worries him is that he realizes he hasn’t really thought about his plan for days. He’s been here almost two years now and he is starting to feel like a slacker of some kind. Confused, he sits on the end of his bed, waiting for Steve, eyeing his collection of tacky souvenirs, the DVD in one hand, the well-worn monkey in the other. He looks around for Grace, but apparently she is playing elsewhere. When Mao hollers that his brah is here for him, he pats the monkey absently and leaves it on his bed.  
   
Steve is as gleeful about the awful movie as Danny thought he would be and they settle happily on the couch, well armed with beer, chips, salsa, and bean dip to watch. Steve cracks Danny up by muting the movie and inventing corny dialog for the one surviving bikini clad damsel, complete with girly falsetto voice, and Danny sinks back into the couch clutching his ribs and snorting and hissing with mute laughter. He feels like he is going to burst. This only encourages Steve, who grins like an idiot and redoubles his efforts until Danny is weeping in silent merriment. Steve finally loses it too and cackles like a hyena at his own wit.  
   
They finally calm down as the credits roll, and grin helplessly at each other. Steve stands to eject the DVD and put in the next movie when the doorbell rings. He tosses the case to Danny and goes to answer it. Danny ejects the movie and is about to put the next one in—-it’s some improbable action flick—-when he recognizes the voice of Steve’s visitor.  
   
It’s Catherine, his lieutenant-with-benefits. She steps into the living room with Steve, obviously dressed for a night out—-the little black dress and fuck-me heels are kind of a dead giveaway. Danny recognizes the body language from his days with Rachel. The good lieutenant is here on a booty call and Danny is the obvious third wheel standing foolishly in the middle of the living room with his overlong hair flopping in his face and a big beer stain on his tee shirt from where he sprayed it all over himself earlier at the first sound of Steve’s squeaky girl heroine impersonation. Danny feels kind of like the village idiot who was left unsupervised for the day.  
   
He shoots a look at Steve who is curiously blank faced, and feels his own heat up. Catherine gives him a brief smile and a quick up-and-down look and instantly seems to dismiss him, returning her attention to the man she’s here to seduce. She has an expensive looking bottle of wine in her hand, and from her easy movements and flushed face, has already indulged a bit earlier.  
   
Danny decides he really doesn’t need to be here for this, so he gives Steve a kind of half-assed, see-you-later wave and bolts for his room, face hot. If he still had the keys he would have headed for the Camaro in the garage and driven himself straight back to the hospital. Once upstairs he shuts the door and circles the room a few times, hands shaking as he reflexively smoothes his face and tugs his hair.  
   
He doesn’t understand why he is so bothered. Steve obviously has a life beyond Danny. He commands one of Hawaii’s most elite police units. He still holds the rank of Lieutenant Commander in the Navy. He has a beautiful woman at his beck and call. Hell, he has the Governor on speed dial. He is a busy man with a full schedule and Danny has no right to be so fucking  _jealous_  of his time.  
   
Danny bolts into the bathroom to splash cold water on his flushed face and snarl at his agitated reflection in the bathroom mirror. The sight of his flushed, wide-eyed  _frightened_  face stops him dead in his tracks as understanding finally hits him square between the eyes. He shakes his head mutely in denial---still in denial after all these months of time spent waiting impatiently for Steve’s visits, anticipating them, looking forward to spending his time with his friend and partner.  
   
Everything comes back to one realization. Steve has become so much more than the rope tethering Danny to this world. Steve has become the most important thing in his life other than Grace.  
   
Grace, who isn’t in this world anymore.  
   
That thought brings him to his knees. He crams a hand in his mouth to stifle the wounded sounds he’s making and scoots back against the cool tiled wall. His eyes are burning and his face is wet. He quickly kicks the bathroom door shut. He doesn’t want Steve and his lieutenant to see him losing his shit—--again—--like this. After all, what possible use for Danny could Steve have, other than pity for a fallen comrade?  
   
Steve can have a normal life. He can have a family and kids. Danny is forever fucked up beyond repair. He will never be the man he was again and it’s about damned time that he faced facts and manned up and stopped monopolizing so much of Steve’s time. He can’t hang around forever, haunting Steve’s guest room, a pale  _haole_  ghost.  
   
He’s shaking all over and it takes him long minutes of deep breathing and rocking to calm himself down, and a while longer before he can walk out of the room without looking like the madman he is, but he finally manages to pull himself together, wash his face and tame his hair. He has to.  
   
********************************  
   
When Danny finally gets up the nerve to head back downstairs he meets Steve coming up to check on him. Steve’s worried eyes examine his face closely, but he doesn’t say anything other than to ask if Danny’s ready to watch the other movie. They go back downstairs together.  
   
Catherine has kicked off her heels and has made herself at home on the couch, silky legs tucked up beneath her and a glass of wine in her hand. She smiles sweetly at Danny and greets him politely, but her eyes are a little too sharp and when Steve sits down beside her, she casually lays a proprietary hand on his thigh. The message is pretty clear.  
   
Displaced, Danny spends the most awkward evening of his life seated in the armchair, clutching an untouched bottle of beer in a death grip, eyes determinedly glued to the forgettable movie as though it was the next cinematic blockbuster. After the credits finally roll, he’s never been so glad to leave in his life, practically bouncing out of the door. Steve is subdued when he quietly offers to drive him back to the hospital. Catherine stays behind, of course and Danny has no doubt where Steve will find her when he gets back home.  
   
The drive back is quiet, with Danny sitting tense and ramrod straight in his seat, hands fisted tightly in his lap, staring blindly out the window. He wants to look at Steve, to find some way to say thankyouIloveyougoodbye, but he doesn’t dare because Steve has become way too adept at reading the emotions on his face.  
   
Steve is concerned, he can tell, he keeps shooting glances at Danny and opening his mouth to say something, then thinking better of it. When they pull into the parking lot, Danny is out of the vehicle like a shot, before he can say a word, giving Steve a hasty, too casual wave as he goes, and pushing blindly through the heavy doors into the lobby. He gives the patiently waiting Mao a nod of greeting and heads straight back to his room. Steve doesn’t follow him in tonight.  
   
 _Of course he won’t come in tonight, he has something better waiting for him at home._  
   
Once in his room, he undresses automatically, pulling on his worn sleep shirt and pajama pants. After he climbs into bed he accepts the pills (easily palming them) and water Mao hands to him with a nod of thanks. He is going to miss the big man’s kindness and he hopes his checking out won’t get him in trouble. Mao gently wishes him goodnight and turns out the light as he leaves, padding quietly away down the hall.  
   
He lies back in the darkness and waits patiently, Mao should go off shift soon, and the night guy will linger in the employee lounge watching talk TV with the sound turned low. Danny thinks briefly about leaving letters to Steve and Rachel. He owes Rachel an apology for the way he treated her. It wasn’t her fault that he could never be what she needed. He has no fucking clue what he would say to Steve.  
   
He waits until after midnight to slip out of bed and into the bathroom, monkey tucked under his arm. Once inside he pours a cup of water and sits on the toilet with the monkey in his lap and squeezes the little pile of pink, white and blue pills out into his palm. He counts them again doubtfully. He really, really doesn’t think he has enough to do this thing right and he has no intention of waking up in another damned psychiatric ward. It’s a sad state of affairs when a cop can’t even remember the proper dosage of narcotics with which to kill himself.  
   
He frowns and looks around. He hasn’t seen Grace yet.  _Maybe you never will again._  That’s his lapsed Catholic guilt kicking in. He bites his lip and closes his hand tight around the pills. He knows what to do to make this work. The ocean is only a few hundred yards from the edge of the hospital grounds, down where the old pineapple fields are. He’ll go there, take his pills and just float away. That way there will be no messy corpse for anyone to have to deal with, no embarrassing mess left for Steve to clean up.  
   
Pleased with himself for solving the problem, he pours the pills in his pocket, fetches a half empty sports bottle from his dresser and refills it with fresh water from the sink. He thinks about getting dressed, then shrugs and toes on his battered sneakers. Now all he has to do is wait for the chance to slip out the unlocked side door. His own room hasn’t been locked down in months, all his good behavior paying off. He sits patiently on the end of his bed, monkey held in his lap, and smiles fondly at the eclectic collection on his dresser and the memories that came with them.  
   
Maybe Steve will keep them to remember him by.  
   
*********************************  
   
Back at the house Steve is restless.  
   
He sent Catherine on her way after he found her waiting in his bed. She had been both pissed and a bit drunk when he finally put her in the cab. He had been pissed too, both at her casual assumption that he wanted to hook up tonight and that she had inadvertently interrupted his quality time with Danny.  
   
She had been surprised when he broke things off with her and more then a bit incredulous when he explained why. A very intelligent woman, she had quickly apologized for her reaction when she realized that Steve was serious about dumping her for his mentally ill partner.  
   
In retrospect, Steve realizes that he should have broken it off with her months ago. It’s only now that he realizes she expected more from him, after all they had hooked up regularly for years. Steve feels like a clueless ass. Maybe some day they can at least be friends again, but right now his priority is Danny.  
   
He finally went to bed at around midnight, but he can’t drop off. He is worried about Danny and he keeps remembering the hollow look on Danny’s face when he went to check on him. Danny had been crying, Steve is sure, and holding onto his composure by a thread. When Steve took him back to the hospital, he refused to look at Steve the whole way there, his compact body radiating tension, and worse of all Steve could feel the chasm widening between them. Danny was shutting him out again and it scared him.  
   
Danny is doing so well now and Steve would dive into a volcano before he would allow him to backslide into the blank, detached shell of a man he was only a few months ago. Gracie’s death has hit him in the heart, but it has damned near destroyed Danny. Steve has waited impatiently for the opportunity to regain his place in Danny’s life and has grabbed the opportunity with both fists when it presented itself.  
   
After Danny tried to kill himself (and damned near succeeded, Steve will have nightmares about that for the rest of his life) and withdrew from the world, fromSteve, he has been never been so afraid in his life. It has dawned on him, and yeah, Steve can admit now that sometimes he could be slow on the uptake, that losing Danny was simply not acceptable. He needs the man in his life like he needs air.  
   
He arranged Danny’s medical leave, hovered around the hospital, harassed Danny’s doctors, read hundreds of articles and books, bribed Mao into providing daily updates on Danny’s condition and watched over him, providing everything he could to make him comfortable. He went so far as to provide paperwork naming himself as Danny’s primary medical contact and even forged domestic partnership papers in case they proved necessary. Danny’s parents are long dead, and he is estranged from his siblings, and Rachel was out of his life. As far as Steve is concerned Danno is his to take care of now.  
   
He visited at every opportunity, even when Danny wouldn’t even look at him or acknowledge his existence. Even gone  so far as to watch him worriedly from afar as he took his daily walks with Mao. The first time he saw Danny shuffling behind Mao, blond head down and eyes blank, clutching Grace’s monkey like a bewildered child, his over-long lounge pants dragging over his heels, his light so diminished—--it nearly killed Steve. He had leaned against the tree he was standing under, put his hand over his face and wept. Then he had straightened up, pulled himself together and went back to work.  
   
Waiting for Danny to come back to himself, to come back to him has been the most difficult thing Steve had ever has to do. Steve McGarrett is not a patient man. He threw himself into his work, but he feels every second that Danny isn’t there keenly, like a knife in his side. The day—--that glorious day—--when he _finally_  got the call, heard Danny stammer his name, ranks as one of the best in his life because his Danno was finally coming home.  
   
Steve stares at the pattern of light the full moon makes on the far wall and eventually dozes off into a light sleep.  
   
Later he’s not sure what wakes him, a cool breeze sighing across his face, a whisper of sound. He opens his eyes and sits bolt upright in bed. She’s standing in a patch of moonlight at the foot of his bed, staring at him, her small face solemn, wearing the same rose pink dress they buried her in. She’s not burned, or hideous, she’s beautiful.  
   
“Gracie?” he croaks in disbelief, blinking and rubbing his eyes hard.  
   
She gives him one of the sweet smiles she inherited from her father, then sobers and mouths a single word, as she wordlessly points east before she fades.  
   
 _Danno --_  
   
Steve bolts out of bed like he’s been electrified, heart pounding. Oh, please God, no. He yanks on the clothes he dropped on the floor earlier and rams his feet into his untied boots before bolting out the door and down the stairs.  
   
Afterwards he’s never sure if she was a dream.  
   
All he knows when he wheels the truck into the parking lot of the hospital and slams on the brakes is Danny is in trouble. He starts to trot across the lot to Danny’s building when a tiny glimmer of white in the corner of his field of vision snags his attention. Later, he will realize that if not for the light from the full moon, he never would have seen him. Far across the manicured lawn, on the narrow strip of beach, Danny is walking into the surf. Steve changes direction in mid-stride and charges towards him, heart in his throat.  
   
*****************************  
   
Danny takes a deep breath when the cool water surges over his feet and ankles. He still has Grace’s monkey tucked under his arm and the bottle of water in one hand. He pauses and stares out over the ocean. It’s a beautiful night, with the full white moon beaming down from a cloudless sky and turning the surf silver.  
   
He stares up at the sky, remembering the night before Grace died. They had sat in Steve’s back yard and looked at constellations for her school project. Danny could identify the Big Dipper and the North star, but Steve, the Navy man had known them all and the ancient Hawaiian stories behind them and patiently pointed them out to her.  
   
 _See Gracie, that’s I’a, the Milky Way, and that’s Mahealani, the full moon, and that’s Hokule’a, the guiding star for navigators._  
   
Danny swallows hard, and raises a hand to swipe at his eyes. He is crying again, he realizes. He feels like someone has been beating him with a ball bat, shaky and raw. It has a long time since he felt so much. He digs the pills out of his pocket and lifts his hand to stare at them. This is his ticket out. He’ll never hurt again. He wonders if he will see Grace again. The thought that he won’t is unbearable.  
   
 _I love you, Danno._  
   
He opens his hand and drops the pills into the water.  
   
Grace wouldn’t want him to die, to take this path. Grace was all about life. He’s weeping openly now, tears streaming as he finally mourns the loss of his daughter, his beautiful daughter, who was the light of his life. He wades farther out into the surf until he’s thigh deep, leans over and places the faithful monkey into the water.  
   
 _Here you go, baby.  
   
I love you, Danno._  
   
“Danno loves you more.” He whispers as he lets her go.  
   
The tide swirls and takes the monkey away, and he stares numbly into the water, tears still dripping down his face. Somehow he still has to make himself want to live. When he finally turns around, Steve is waiting for him on the sand. Danny stares, blinking in disbelief, raises his eyes to Steve’s and realizes that Steve is crying too—--that Steve is mourning her too, and that he isn’t alone. That he has never been alone, that Steve has always been there.  
   
He stumbles out of the water and straight into Steve’s arms, and Steve wraps him in a tight embrace and holds him close, and it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to raise his face for Steve’s gentle kiss. They hold each other for a long time, swaying together, united in grief and love, and when Steve murmurs three words against the top of his head, Danny is finally able to shakily whisper them back.  
   
Epilogue  
   
Steve furiously scribbles his signature on the last report, finally reaching the bottom of what felt like a foot high stack of paperwork (and dammit, he will be glad when Danny gets back work to full time and he can happily dump the paperwork in his partner’s inbox), and tosses the whole stack in his outbox.  
   
He shoots a glance at the clock over the door, curses loudly---where the hell did the time go--- and heads out of his office at a fast clip,  _not running, thank you_. Kono catches up with him in the hall and they both break into a brisk trot, headed for the parking lot where Steve’s truck waits. They throw themselves in and Steve burns rubber as he pulls into the street. They’re late, and Steve briefly wonders if he should maybe slap on the siren to cut through traffic.  
   
“We’re late,” Kono states, staring grimly ahead through the windshield.  
   
“Thank you so much, Officer Kalakaua, I was totally unaware of that fact!”  
   
Despite what Danny says, Steve can do sarcasm.  
   
 _Danno is going to rip him a new asshole._  
   
They finally reach the park and pull into the parking lot behind the bleachers. They can hear the cheers and clapping. Steve yanks the cooler from the back and they sprint for their seats. Chin is already there, kicked back with a cone of shave ice, looking cool and wearing shades and a shirt that makes Steve’s eyes water. Steve wonders if maybe Chin is color-blind.  
   
“You’re late,” He observes mildly.  
   
“We know!”  
   
They chorus back crossly, before turning their attention to the ball field below.  
   
Kono is immediately on her feet, hands in the air, clapping and cheering, because little Davie is up to bat and he is her favorite of Danny’s whole Pee-Wee baseball team.  
   
Steve grins at the sight of his partner on the field, helping the skinny little boy adjust his hold on the bat, murmuring encouragement in his ear and carefully pushing Davie’s oversized safely helmet up out of his eyes and his thick glasses up his nose so he can actually see the ball. Danny claps his hands and yells encouragement, as he steps back out of the way.  
   
Danno is looking good these days. He’s actually (finally) acquired a golden tan that sets off his blond hair and bright blue eyes. It’s still too long, and he wears it pulled back with an elastic band most of the time, a sun-streaked tangle that Steve loves threading his hands through.  
   
He’s dressed in his Team Haole shirt and cut off shorts. The days of hair product and ‘professional’ attire have been few and far between lately. Steve hopes that when Danny comes back to work,  _and he will be back_ , he’s been acing his recertification evaluations, that he won’t cut his hair too short, and that he will manage to lose the ties. Maybe Steve will accidentally some day set Danny’s tie rack on fire or drop it in the ocean.  
   
The last couple of years have been hard for Danny. Even after he left the hospital for good and moved in with Steve, he’s had bad days, still does—--sad days where he just doesn’t want to interact or talk with anyone. It helps a lot that he is off the drugs. His new doctor has finally realized that they were a large part of Danny’s problem. Danny had nasty reactions to them, ranging from hallucinations to paranoia. A new vitamin-diet-exercise regime has done wonders for his mental health.  
   
Sometimes, Steve is in awe of his partner’s sheer strength of mind. Danny Williams has been through hellfire, had his heart torn out and his soul shredded and somehow survived. He has picked himself up and doggedly began to rebuild his life. He is still fragile, and some days the simple sound of a little girl in the park calling her dad would have those blue eyes fill with tears and cause nightmares, but he keeps going and some days that’s all anyone can do.  
   
The coaching position came about by accident. Danny was waiting in a park near Steve’s office to meet him for lunch, when he noticed some boys being shoved around by a pack of larger kids. It turned out the little ones were military brats, transient  _haoles_  to many of the native Hawaiian kids, and considered fair game to bait and bully.  
   
Their parents were busy struggling to earn a living, often holding down two jobs to make ends meet on military pay (expenses on the island are astronomical) and often forced to leave the kids for long hours at home or at the park with older siblings to fend for themselves. Before he knew it, Danny was spending a lot of time with the latchkey kids (it was often boring to wait at home for Steve, and Danny was no housewife, thank you very much), teaching them self-defense and sports and basically keeping them from turning into miniature hoodlums and murdering each other.  
   
Thus Team Haole was born and immediately gained 5-0 as its major sponsor for equipment, uniforms and snacks. Kono is their chief (and most vocal) cheerleader and Chin assistant coach. Soon Danny was organizing field trips to the beach and swimming and surfing lessons from Steve and Kono as well. But when it comes to baseball, Danny is the coach, for both the Pee-Wees and the Little League teams.  
   
Steve and Chin whooped and Kono howls like a triumphant wolf as Davie manages to shakily hit the ball into mid field, where the kid on the other team promptly drops it. Danny runs with Davie to the first base—--Dave is known for his tendency to run the wrong way in his excitement at actually hitting the ball—--shouting encouragement.  
   
Sometimes, Pee-Wee baseball is way more comedy then sport.  
   
Steve perks up when Emily comes up to bat, her pigtails poking from under her helmet. He has no qualms whatsoever with declaring the little redheaded spitfire is his favorite and he jumps up and bellows encouragement.  
   
“Go, Emily!”  
   
He beams when Danny’s head whips around at the sound of his voice, eyes narrowed against the sun as they seek Steve out in the bleachers. Steve feels a goofy grin stretch across his face when those clear blue eyes meet his and just beamed harder. Chin snorts in amusement as he sits back down.  
   
“You got it bad,  _brah_.”  
   
“Yeah,” Steve agrees happily, “yeah, I do.”  
   
He gives his friend an insufferably smug smile.  
   
Chin just smiles and shakes his head, exchanging eye rolls with Kono. The honeymoon goes on  _forever_  with these two. They are more than a little envious. But Chin has seen how hard they work to be together, Danny struggling with depression and anxiety and Steve trying so hard to protect him and anticipate his needs, unused himself to being in a long term relationship and having to cautiously feel his way.  
   
They returned their attention to the game, cheer the kids around the bases, boo unhappily when someone is struck out, and glare at and heckle the umpire when he commits the unforgivable affront of declaring the only ball Charlie manages to hit a foul. At one point, Steve thinks he and Chin are going to have to sit on Kono to keep her from leaping from the bleachers and dick punching the poor man.  
   
Things get exciting for a few minutes when it looks like the game is actually going to tie. The Maui Mavericks always kick Team Haole’s collective ass, (Steve claims this is because they are twice the Haole’s size and obviously on steroids). It did Steve’s heart good when Danno gets up in the 6’3”, two hundred pound umpire’s face over what any blind man could see was a totally bogus call.  
   
He watches smugly as the man hastily retracts his decision. It’s nice to see someone else be a focus for Hurricane Danno’s ire for a change. Steve’s smiles broadly as he watches Danny’s hands knife through the air as he tells the beleaguered man exactly what he thinks of his prowess in umpiring children’s sports, finally shaking the Finger of Wrath under the taller man’s nose before strutting triumphantly back to the dugout.  
   
For such a long time Danny has been subdued, mute and uncaring of his surroundings. Despite appearances, Danny is actually more mellow now, less likely to fly off the handle. For a while Steve feared that inner spark was gone for good. But Danny has been forged in fire and his edge has been re-honed, not dulled. It just takes him a while longer to power up now, but the results, like a volcano’s eruption, are always spectacular.  
   
Steve really looks forward to replaying and celebrating Danno’s verbal smack down later in private, because when Danny is hot,  _he is simmering hot_ , and Steve enjoys reaping the benefits afterwards. Kono abruptly jolts him back from happy naked Danno thoughts with a sharp smack to the back of the head.  
   
“Ow!” he glares at her.  
   
She rolls her eyes. Her boss is such a guy sometimes.  
   
“Game’s over, boss, we lost again, and someone is trying to get your attention.”  
   
She gives him an evil grin.  
   
“Maybe he won’t notice you were late.”  
   
Steve scowls down his nose at her.  
   
“We were late, Kono, emphasis on the we.”  
   
She gives him a grin and flounces off after Chin, to join the stream of parents and kids leaving the field.  
   
“Yeah, but I don’t count.” This tossed smugly over her shoulder. “We’ll see you guys at Syd’s!”  
   
Steve glares after her, then turns his attention down on the field where his partner waits impatiently, hands on hips and scowling up at him. He hastily pastes on his best puppy-dog face, grabbed the soft drink cooler and scrambled down the bleachers.  
   
Danny cocks his head, and looks up at him.  
   
“You were late.”  
   
Steve pushes into his space and drapes himself over his partner, wrapping a long arm around his shoulders and dropping a quick kiss on top of the blond head, taking a second to breathe him in. Salt, cocoa butter and sun-warmed Danno, the best scent ever.  
   
“Paperwork.” He answers shortly.  
   
Danny snorts, a smug smile on his face, glad that he isn’t the one who has to deal with the paper blizzard of forms and reports for a change.  
   
“A little honest work will do you good, McGarrett” he says mildly.  
   
“Hey! I work! Just ask Chin and Kono!”  
   
Danny snorts in amusement. Chin had called him earlier and updated him about the drug bust on the docks. Steve actually followed proper procedure for a change, even waiting for backup. The firefight had resulted in  
only one explosion and the boat was a small one, so Danny will cut him some slack. Steve has mellowed a lot now that he has someone to come home to.  
   
They head for the parking lot, still bickering, Steve’s arm draped over his shoulders.  
   
Steve is surprisingly open about their relationship. After all they have been through in the last few years he isn’t about to let a few homophobes cause him to cut down on the PDA, and frankly Danny welcomes it. Steve’s open affection and total lack of personal space help keep him grounded.  
   
**********************************  
   
It’s barely dawn when Steve wakes and he stretches lazily in the golden morning light, before reaching for the sleep warm body curled beside him. Steve loves this, waking up everyday with Danny beside him, loves holding him close until he wakes. He loves lying belly to belly with him, legs entangled, feeling the smoothness of Danny’s skin over hard muscle, the soft crinkle of body hair against his, Danny’s breath warm against Steve’s skin, while Steve cards his fingers gently through sun streaked hair. Danno’s bed head is truly spectacular these days.  
   
In the early days after Danny came home, waking was difficult for him, the drugs making him sluggish. Steve got into the habit of just holding him close and slowly smoothing his hands down the broad back, down over the lush, muscled curve of his ass while he mouthed soft affectionate kisses against Danny’s sleepy face and rasped their morning whiskers together. With the desensitizing drugs sex wasn’t much of an option for Danny then, so Steve got into the very pleasant habit of snuggling him, just enjoying them together.  
   
He quickly realized that Danny didn’t quite believe yet that he was allowed to have this---have Steve in his life and his arms and bed. He once mumbled a garbled explanation against Steve’s shoulder about how Steve should have a ‘normal’ life, not tie himself to someone as fucked up as Danny. He honestly believes that Steve deserves a wife and kids not a cranky, beaten down detective. All Steve knows to do to combat his partner’s self-doubt is be here for him, and hold him tight through all his demons of depression, anxiety, and insecurity.  
   
So, as always, he takes the time to cuddle his sleepy lover, whisper silly endearments in his ear and drop kisses all over Danny’s face before leaving the bed for his morning swim and run, reluctantly leaving a very tempting, yawning, half-awake Danno behind. Danny is not a morning person and likes to sleep in on weekends, then drink about a gallon of strong coffee before he has to actually function.  
   
Steve blazes through his morning routine, hoping to get back home to Danny and sweet talk him into a little morning delight before he leaves their bed. He jogs back to the house and drys off with the towel left on the lanai. The scent of fresh coffee greets him and he stops to pour a cup. While he stands at the counter, strong arms slide around his waist and Danny leans solidly against him, prickly cheek against his bare back.  
   
“Morning” Steve tells him softly, taking a sip.  
   
Danny doesn’t reply, just tightens his hold and sleepily rubs his stubbled face against Steve’s shoulder blade. Apparently this was one of Danny’s nonverbal days. Steve’s heart sinks. It has been long time since Danny’s had had one of those, but he isn’t really surprised. He knows what triggered it.  
   
Yesterday at Syd’s barbecue, Mao had showed up with his plump, pretty wife Aina, and three miniature Maos as well as the newest addition to their family; their baby girl, Maylea. The baby was dressed in a soft pink frilly dress with rosebud barrettes in her dark hair and tiny white Hello Kitty sandals. Steve looked up from where he was comparing ink with a few Kalakaua cousins to see Danny cradling Maylea in the crook of his arm while a beaming Aina watched.  
   
The baby had adored Danny, cooing and gazing at him with wide dark eyes, reaching for his bright hair, gifting him with drooling, toothless smiles. Only Steve saw the sadness in Danny’s eyes as he crooned down at the little girl, one of his fingers captured tight in a tiny fist.  
   
He turns in his partner’s arms, setting the coffee mug aside, and wraps his arms around him, dropping his cheek down on the tousled head and gives him a hard squeeze. Danny grunts and chuckles softly against Steve’s chest and hugs back. They stand together in the kitchen, holding each other and swaying softly back and forth for a while, just enjoying the contact.  
   
Steve sighs happily and buries his nose in blond hair. Danny smells good like sea salt and warm musky male, and Steve is thinking about gently herding him back upstairs to bed when Danny speaks, his voice still rough with sleep.  
   
“You maybe want to go surfing today?”  
   
Steve feels an impossibly wide smile spread across his face.  
   
He hugs Danny harder, lifts him up off his feet and squeezes until Danny gives an indignant squeak.  
   
“Yeah, Danno, yeah. That’s a good idea. But first,” he tilts Danny’s face up, cups his jaw, and takes his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss, smiling goofily down into sleepy blue eyes.  
   
He is going to see those eyes for the rest of his life.  
   
He begins to mouth moist, hungry kisses across wide shoulders, biting gently into the heavy muscle where they join his neck, moving up to suck the sweet spot behind his ear, hands sliding down Danny’s back into his sleep pants to give peach fuzzed cheeks a proprietary squeeze. He finally raises his head and beams happily down into Danny’s flushed face as he begins to walk him backwards towards the stairs.  
   
“I got this thing I want to do first.”  
   
Danny’s eyes narrow and sparkle with laughter.  
   
“A  _thing_ , McGarrett?  
   
“Yeah, a thing. I think you’ll like it,” he said confidently, grinning helplessly back.  
   
“Trust me, Danno.”  
   
“Yeah. Okay. I can do that.”  
   
Fini  
   
January 18, 2011


End file.
